Page 30 of ForeverMN

“Saylor, if you aren’t busy this weekend, I can help you start looking,” Dad offers.

I take a deep breath and welcome the excitement as it claws its way up my chest. “I would really like that.”

He nods and we all go on asking Niko about his school day while my mom finishes up dinner. This feels right. There is not an ounce of regret in my decision. My fingers reach for my phone to tell Ciaran before remembering I shouldn’t. I’ll keep giving him time. When he comes home, hopefully I can show him how serious I am about our future.

Ciaran

The summer is storming past, and we’re not making the progress I wish we had been. We managed to bounce back from the cyber-attack, but it was close. Too close. If Mila and Reed hadn’t already been looking for a threat, I’m not sure we would have survived. The feeling of dread is constant in my stomach, and the air around us is thick with danger. It feels eerily like that summer and fall years ago when the only way out was to flatten the town with a tornado conspiracy. Back then, it had been the only way to take out our enemies while also keeping ourselves, and targets, safe. My last option is to pull another Hail-Mary. It would be catastrophic, and we all agreed it’s only for dire emergencies. The only problem is that this is starting to feel like an emergency.

Something about the case we have with New York and Ghost Operatives feels off. The information that we have found has been helpful, but I can’t let go of this feeling of impending doom. There’s a heaviness in the air, each decision we make is life or death, instead of with careful precision. I go to sleep at night restless. Silas has convinced me to take a few weeks at home, to clear my head, then come back refreshed. I need to trust my brothers, my best friends, with the business they are also dedicated to. My body is screaming for the break; it’s just my head that won’t stop.

I also can’t stand being back here when I know Saylor is so close by. It takes all my physical energy not to run over to her house and beg her to give me anything. Our last meeting is burned into my memories. The way she was trying to reach out to me, but I was too scared and too hurt to take even the tiniest of steps towards her. Instead of some line about space and figuring out shit out separately, I should have wrapped her in my arms and taken any piece of herself she would give me. I’m a selfish bastard though. I don’t want pieces of Saylor, I want all of her. I want her to be mine, and for Rogue to be ours. I want to be her peace and safe place like always, yet each mission this past year has only tried to prove me wrong. I refuse to bring her closer if she’ll get hurt, but I’m dying without her. Leaving for months at a time isn’t helping. Drowning my worries in the work isn’t making things more stable. Rogue is on the precipice of something huge. I can feel the energy humming under my skin. I just don’t know what it is.

After getting out of the shower, I’m drying off when my phone vibrates with an incoming text message.

SILAS: You busy?

I quickly type him back, my heart hammering my chest.

ME: No. What’s up?

The dots dance and fade, and it’s the longest two minutes of my life waiting for his message to come through.

SILAS: I hate to ask. My dad and Matt are still up north, and there was a trip on the security system at Saylor’s new place. Think you could just check it out? She won’t be there. She’s out with the girls.

My heart races and plummets, taking my stomach on a nosedive with it.

ME: New place?

SILAS: Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t think you’d want to know. She has a small duplex in town by the garage. You know the building.

Fuck yeah I know the place. It was one space we had talked about renting until we found our forever home. It was swept up before we even got the chance to look at it, and we figured that was our sign to just look for the house. All the information rushes back to me, but my heart is still hammering. Saylor has a new place. She moved out of her parents’, and it was without me. It shouldn’t matter. The thought shouldn’t make me so angry, but it does.

ME: I’m on my way over.

I quickly respond and throw my phone to the bed while I finish dressing. Two blocks. Saylor’s new place is two blocks from my newly rented apartment. I bet if I looked out my back window I could see the side of her building. She’s this close, and I had no idea. She moved into a new place that I didn’t sweep for her, where I didn’t install her security features, where I didn’t help carry in heavy boxes. It’s probably why her security system is tripping right now. Anger fuels me along with a feeling of regret. Saylor moved out on her own. She finally made the choice for herself, and maybe if I’d have answered her call, or talked to her, would things be different?

The main light is on in her entry way when I finally get there and I make out her silhouette in the window. I didn’t think she would be home. I knock on her door and wait while I hear a flurry of movement. When Saylor does open the door she’s on the phone.

“He just got here, Si. Okay,” She waves me in and mouths sorry to me. “Yup, bye.”

She hangs up and her hands instantly clasp together. I can read the hesitancy on her face and the way she holds herself. She isn’t sure she wants me in her new space.

“I’m so sorry you had to come over. I really thought I fixed it on my own.”

Toeing off my shoes, I let my eyes travel over the girl who still holds my heart after months of being apart. Her legs are encased in black leggings that glide over all her curves, and a gray sweatshirt, I recognize immediately as one of mine, hangs loosely on her frame, exposing one of her shoulders. She doesn’t look ready to go out for a girls night.

“You haven’t lived here long?”

“A couple weeks,” She nods and moves further into the house. I follow behind her to her living room area where the box of her security stuff sits. “I had it all hooked up, but Silas insisted on sending new things.”

My eyes wander around the room, taking in her wall of family pictures, the burning candle on the coffee table, and the large couch. The television is currently on a random chair, and a box of what looks to be a television stand sits next to it, unopened.

“Bring me your old stuff and I’ll see what’s needed,” I manage to say around the dry emotion in my throat. Saylor pads upstairs, her stocking covered feet barely making noise across the wood floors. With her gone, I take in everything. Boxes still in piles with only necessities unpacked. Shelves, and other objects in boxes, that I should have been here to help her set up. If this had been our place, I would have made sure of it.

“Here,” Saylor is suddenly in front of me again and handing me the small rectangular device that is common in our Rogue homes. Except this one is wired all wrong.

“You were close,” I tell her, shooting her the first real smile I’ve felt on my lips in months.

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